


Remarkable

by blinkfloyd



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Detachable Genitalia, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Phone Sex, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:15:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinkfloyd/pseuds/blinkfloyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Carlos… did I leave… something behind?” Cecil asks, voice audibly strained.</p><p>“...Yeah, I think so.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remarkable

“So what is this movie even about?” Carlos asks, seated on his couch next to Cecil, leaning on him.

“Nobody knows, really,” Cecil replies, “I don’t think the director knows, if there even is one.”

They both continue to gaze at the tiny TV screen, which is displaying what appears to be a scene of a man in a quarantine suit driving around in a dark, muggy cave in some kind of futuristic golf cart. There has been no evidence of a plot, character development, or actual characters for the entire thirty minutes they’ve been watching. The only text on the DVD case is the word “Agony;” no list of actors, no plot summary, not even a rating. 

Cecil found this mysterious film taped to a bag of moth balls on his doorstep a few hours ago. He invited Carlos over to watch it with him for “research,” but Carlos knows he just wanted an excuse to set up a date with him. And he is interested in Cecil. Cecil just still feels the need to make up excuses to see him. Carlos has explained that he is okay with dating him, but Cecil doesn’t exactly listen to every word he says. 

But it really is pretty endearing to see him exert so much effort just for the chance to share in Carlos’s company.

They’ve been on a number of “dates” together, but the furthest they’ve gotten physically is a five second long kiss – Carlos counted, because he's a scientist – and Cecil snuck some tongue in, but nobody can really call whether that was voluntary or not. Cecil’s body parts don't always listen to him.

They've actually both lost count of how many dates they’ve been on, but that’s just because they both have more important things to keep track of, such as how many planets in the solar system still exist, and the average number of eyelash-flutters Carlos executes over the course of each sentence. 

After another twenty minutes of plotless nonsense, Carlos takes the step of reaching for the remote to turn the TV off. “I think I’ve seen enough,” he says. He's feeling bold today. “And Cecil, we've been on several dates, and it’s really obvious that you want to take things further.” he says, gesturing to the bulge in Cecil's pants which has manifested just because Cecil is – platonically touching Carlos? In Carlos's presence? Either way, its shape is unorthodox, to say the least. Anybody outside of Night Vale would be rather frightened, but this sort of thing is literally the reason Carlos moved here in the first place.

His face flushed purple, Cecil mutters, “Really? You’re willing to go into that... line of research?”

“Cecil, just because I’m a scientist doesn't mean I don’t take time off work to have some fun,” Carlos says with a smirk, unbuttoning his shirt. He leans in toward Cecil and kisses him deeply and with little warning, grasping the back of his head. Cecil’s eyes dart wide open in surprise at first, but then he eases into the kiss, melting into the movement of Carlos’s tongue.

Carlos pulls off only to be met by Cecil’s unnerving, gorgeous solid-white eyes, just inches away from him. They both smile simultaneously as Carlos twirls Cecil's hair around his fingers.

Cecil mutters, “So, by fun, do you mean… like…” He pauses before nodding down at the protrusion in his pants.

“Well, we have been seeing each other for a while,” Carlos says, then emphasizes his point by reaching down and grabbing Cecil. Cecil lets out a brief, quiet screech before restraining his voice.

“Shall I lead?” Carlos asks. Cecil nods enthusiastically.

Carlos leans in and starts kissing him again, letting out a few soft moans. Still mostly keeping their mouths together, he shifts to a straddling position on top of Cecil. 

Their lips remain locked as Carlos jerks his hips up. He continues to move his body up and down, effectively dry humping Cecil into the couch. Short, high pitched moans escape Cecil’s lips each time their mouths part for a millisecond. They can both feel each other growing harder under the friction.

“Fuck,” Carlos moans into Cecil’s mouth. He pulls his face away slowly, and reaches down toward Cecil’s pants and unfastens them before palming Cecil’s seemingly normal dick through his boxer-briefs. Cecil’s body tenses up from the sensation of Carlos’s touch. Then something else brushes up against his hand from underneath the thin cloth.

He looks up, slightly confused, mostly excited.

Cecil is breathing heavily. “Oh, don’t worry about that; it's the other one. It just kind of does what it wants, but it won’t hurt you.”

Carlos can’t be too freaked out. He just sort of assumes everyone in Night Vale has their own unique and evolutionarily impractical genitalia anyway; it’s just weirder to deal with it firsthand.

He can't dwell on it for too long, though, because Cecil is busy returning the favor: he unbuttons Carlos’s pants and rubs his dick through one layer of fabric. He, however, is met with no surprises. Carlos’s dick is just a dick. Singular.

“Alright, I have to see this,” Carlos says quietly before pulling Cecil’s pants down to his mid thighs and pulling his waistband down to reveal Cecil’s two dicks.They both slightly resemble tentacles, except they’re completely smooth, and are vaguely conical. One is bigger and harder, while the other one is smaller and continues to move around, brushing against every surface it can find. It appears that, in its flaccid state, it would normally rest underneath the bigger one. The larger dick is almost bright purple at the tip, fading to lavender and then to the color of the rest of Cecil’s smooth, pale skin.

Carlos follows his instinct and strokes the bigger dick the way he would any other. Cecil gasps, the smaller appendage writhing against his wrist. The bigger one’s tip tickles at Carlos’s fingers as he strokes. 

Cecil nudges Carlos to get up, then manages to work his pants and underwear off of him so all he's wearing is his unbuttoned shirt. He gets his own pants down to his ankles as well. When Carlos returns to his position on top of Cecil, Cecil runs his hand down Carlos’s chest – trailing over the perfect, smooth skin that he spends practically every waking moment drooling over. When he reaches Carlos’s dick, he takes it in his hand and drags slowly from base to tip, trying to mimic the rhythm Carlos is using on him.

Instead of getting harder like a normal penis would, Cecil’s both seem to gain autonomy as he gets more turned on. Carlos notices this when the tip starts reaching for his own cock. He follows its suggestion and thrusts his hips forward. Cecil’s tip swirls around on the head of Carlos’s dick. 

The smaller appendage flits across Carlos's balls, secreting a clear, slippery fluid. He can tell it’s not just ordinary precome; there’s too much for it to be that, and the texture feels as if it is specifically meant to be a lubricant.

Fuck, Cecil, he thinks. You give being good in bed a new fucking meaning. He looks back up to Cecil’s face from their cluster of united genitalia to see that his head has fallen back from the sensation, leaving him open-mouthed and facing the ceiling with his eyes squeezed shut.

Cecil’s dick is wrapped completely around Carlos’s, almost grasping it, stroking all over, which is sort of weird but probably the best thing Carlos has ever felt. Both of Carlos’s hands grip the back of the couch, allowing just the genitals themselves to do all the work. Both cocks are glisteningly wet with Cecil’s supernatural precome, Cecil’s glowing bright purple. 

Carlos is already overwhelmed with sensation before Cecil’s smaller dick finds its way to Carlos’s ass. It tickles at the outside before feeling around the opening. Carlos lets out a short, high pitched “ah” at this feeling. The smaller dick doesn’t hold back, continuing to play around and find its way deeper and deeper. 

Carlos is making continuous noises by now, Cecil looking up at him with a grin. He may be doing all the work, but that doesn’t mean he's not enjoying it.

Cecil is actually fucking Carlos with the second dick and rhythmically jerking him off with the other. “Fuck, Cecil, I’m gonna-” Carlos chokes out, and Cecil thrusts once, twice, and then Carlos comes screaming on top of Cecil. Cecil fucks him through it as he comes himself, both all over and inside Carlos.

Carlos’s entire body relaxes over Cecil. He wraps his arms around him and gives him a long, tired kiss, buries his face in Cecil’s shoulder, and they remain in this position for a few minutes, both too sated to move. 

~

Cecil nudges Carlos to get up. “Do you want to go sleep in my bed?”

Carlos gets up, stretches, and pads toward the bedroom. “Alright, come on,” he says. He slips his pants down and off of his legs.

Carlos crawls into bed only in his unbuttoned shirt. He looks up at Cecil, who's stripping off his own clothes.

“Oh, I uh, sleep naked. I hope that’s alright,” Cecil says when he notices Carlos watching.

Carlos laughs softly. “Of course it's alright.” 

Cecil smiles, turns the light off, and joins him in bed.

“Carlos?”

“Yes, Cecil?”

“Is it okay if we… cuddle?”

“Of course, Cecil.”

Cecil enthusiastically scoots up from behind Carlos, wraps his arm around him, and buries his face in his back. “Goodnight, Carlos,” he says softly in his studio voice, “goodnight.”

~

At exactly five in the morning, Cecil springs upright in bed at a 90-degree angle.

Carlos, audibly very sleepy, asks, “What is it, Cecil?”

“I have to go to the studio.”

“What? But there was no alarm cloc-”

“Yes, I know. When I first started working at the studio they implanted a schedule-regulatory reminder microchip into my brain so that I would be perfectly on time for every single broadcast.”

“Wow, that’s kind of-”

“Well, I gotta go. You know how traffic gets. And I have to work around any chemical warfare or pteranodon mobs I may run into on my way there” Cecil says as he slips on his clothes.

“Alright, so what should I-”

“Have a scientific day, Carlos!” Cecil interrupts. The door slams behind him.

For a moment Carlos considers going home, but he’s not really up for that trip quite yet today – the forecast did actually warn for all that chemical warfare – so he just turns on the radio on a low volume and turns over to drift off until he is gently awoken by Cecil’s soothing voice vibrating through the speakers.

~

After half an hour passes, exactly on normal schedule, the broadcast begins. 

“You look in the mirror. The figure in the mirror looks back at you. The figure is bleeding. The figure is burning. You are burning. Welcome to Night Vale.”

Carlos’s eyes flutter open with the start of the music. He's lying on his back, and remains there to just relax and listen.

“Hello, listeners. I’ve decided to take on today’s show with a rather fun, wacky twist. As you hear me speaking, I am currently standing on top of my desk. Isn’t the world a funny place?”

Carlos smiles to himself as he realizes that this is the dork he’s let into his life. 

“What’s that? Oh, but – ugh. Fiine.” Can be heard a slight distance from the microphone. 

Cecil’s voice returns to normal volume. “Sorry, listeners, I’m afraid I cannot remain standing on top of my desk, because apparently, it is a safety hazard, and if the desk were to randomly de-materialize, and gravity remained a thing, I would fall to the ground and fracture something... but really, that was one time. Why must one time spoil the fun all of the time?” 

Cecil’s speaking pauses as the sound of him jumping down onto the floor carries over the air.

Cecil continues to ramble on about traffic and news, and Carlos listens fondly for a few minutes before he feels something brush against his inner thigh.

He flinches for a second, but returns to his previous position after deciding it was probably just a tarantula. Carlos is well-adjusted to this kind of thing; everybody in Night Vale shares a mutual understanding with tarantulas. Sometimes the little guys just need to hide from the rampant gang violence among the arachnid community. Beds are the safest of havens.

After about twenty seconds, however, he feels it again, and this time it aims straight for his ass before retreating.

Carlos yelps in unison with Cecil over the radio. 

Carlos reaches over and turns the volume up in curiosity. “Uh, sorry Night Vale, there was just a… tiny portal at the bottom of my coffee mug.” He clears his throat. “You better stay back, you sneaky double!”

Carlos's brain is short-circuiting.

He flips the blanket off of the bed to reveal that the culprit is what looks to be a part of Cecil’s genitalia.

Of fucking course it’s detachable, Carlos thinks. Why should I expect any less?

In spite of Cecil for not mentioning this to him at all, Carlos grabs it. Cecil gasps mid sentence over the broadcast. It wiggles around in Carlos’s hand on its own, causing Cecil to let out an involuntary moan, which gets cut off when he audibly slaps his hand over his mouth.

Carlos gets freaked out and drops it on the bed next to him. This doesn't help, however, because it just decides to slither up underneath him more quickly than Carlos is able to get up.

“Ah!”

The dick doesn’t hold back. Carlos is standing, but it’s inside of him regardless. It’s still moving around, about halfway in. Cecil’s sentences fade to steady panting before long. Carlos is growing hard from the feeling inside of him combined with the obscene sounds coming from the radio.

Cecil manages to fight it back long enough to choke out, “Now… the weather.” Over the radio, an acoustic indie song begins.

Not a moment later the phone at Cecil’s house rings. Carlos manages to make his way across the few rooms’ distance to answer it on time.

“H-hello?”

“Carlos… did I leave… something behind?” Cecil asks, voice audibly strained.

“...Yeah, I think so.”

“Well… I can feel it.” Cecil, says, his voice becoming more and more breathy.

“Yeah, and trust me, we can hear it.”

It continues to work its way deeper into Carlos. They both gasp in unison over the phone.

“I don’t suppose you’re able to… stop it?” Cecil asks when he is re-granted the use of his voice.

“I don’t believe I can.”

“You know what…” Cecil says, “Just… don’t fight back. Let it do what it wants.”

“Wh… what?”

“Actually, maybe you should help it, if you can. Maybe I can achieve orgasm before the weather ends. This is a longer song anywaaa-” Cecil trails off into a moan as he feels Carlos clench around his dick, and he and reflexively grabs the one that he still has with him.

Carlos knows this thing probably won’t be coming out of him without either orgasm or medical intervention, so he figures the best way to pleasure it would be to pleasure himself. This is weird, but not so weird that he can't lean back against the wall and enjoy himself. He’s flinching and shaking from the movement inside of him. 

Both still on the phone, Cecil continues to make little noises of pleasure, jerking himself off.

“Mmm, Carlos, tell me what it feels like.”

A moment passes before Carlos can really gather what exactly it is that he's feeling. All he can think to say about the experience is a long, drawn out, “remarkable.”

Cecil grunts in response. Then, all that can be heard over the phone is the sound of his heavy breathing.

“Well…” Carlos exhales in his own fit of lustful panting, “What are you feeling?”

“God, Carlos,” Cecil responds in the filthiest tone he possibly can, that almost-orgasmic radio voice, “you feel amazing.”

The sound of that response sends Carlos over the edge – it takes him completely by surprise when he comes, spurting over his hand. Over the phone he can hear Cecil moaning loudly with the feeling of Carlos contracting around him from across town. Carlos feels almost as if he’s hearing the sound of Cecil’s orgasm in stereo.

Cecil’s dick relaxes itself, finds its way out of Carlos, and slithers down his leg to find somewhere to hide. He's not going after it, so Cecil will just have to find it later. 

Cecil’s head falls back against his chair as he basks in the afterglow for a few seconds. When he turns back down to normal eye level and looks toward his desk, though, he notices something.

The little red light next to the microphone is on.

“Oh shit,” Cecil mutters over the phone before hanging up. He panics and rushes over to get his headphones back on and sit in his other chair.

Carlos’s eyes dilate in terror as well, and he rushes back to the other room to listen to the radio.

Cecil clears his throat before resuming, “Oh, Uh, welcome back, listeners. We here at the studio apologize for anything you, your children, or your pet sedimentary beings may have just heard from our broadcast. There was a… technical issue. And perhaps you nosy, nosy people should just mind your own business. Honestly, the nerve, listening in on things you shouldn't be. You should be ashamed.”

Carlos sits on the bed and laughs to himself, because he can't figure out how to respond to having his sex life broadcast to the entire town. There's just no protocol for that.

Cecil manages to close the show before collapsing on his desk from pure humiliation and disbelief.

~

Carlos is still sitting on Cecil’s bed, fully clothed and reading a book, when Cecil gets home about half an hour later.

“Carlos? You still here?” He calls out from the door.

“Yeah, and don’t worry, so is your little friend.”

Cecil smirks to himself as he walks over to meet Carlos in the living room.

“What are you still doing here?” Cecil asks.

“Well, I didn’t wanna have to wade through the carnage of getting home just yet, and also, I never got to kiss you goodbye.”

“Oh,” Cecil says, delightfully surprised.

Carlos steps forward and kisses Cecil firmly, as to reassure that, despite how utterly traumatizing today should have been, they are okay. And they’re going to be okay.

He pulls back, looking into Cecil's milky white eyes. “As much as I’d love to stay and perhaps experience something like that again... less than a mile away from you, I have to get back to the lab soon. Maybe I'll see you tonight.”

Cecil’s face lights up at the thought of getting to spend another night with Carlos. 

Carlos smiles back at him. “You’re so cute.” He quickly kisses Cecil again and heads toward the door. “See you, Cecil,” he says before walking out.

Cecil sits down on the couch with a look of pure glee on his face. He and Carlos seem to be in a steady relationship – that's absolutely what this is; Carlos called him cute – and that’s truly the only thing he could ask for out of life at this point. 

He scrunches his face up, covers it with his hands, and buries it in one of the couch pillows, making soft screeching sounds. He can’t wait.


End file.
